


but when he walks in, i am loved, i am loved

by thebeasknees



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Bandaging, But Not Beyond Repair, Connor Is Broken, Evan Hansen Is Amazing, Evan Is A Good Boyfriend, Fluff, Gen, Getting Better Together, Hurt/Comfort, It doesn't actually happen, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Recovery, Relapse, SO, Self Harm, fresh self harm scars, its loosely refered to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27038599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebeasknees/pseuds/thebeasknees
Summary: Connor gets worse before he gets better. He hasn't ever been told that that's not exactly a bad thing. So that's what he' s working to learn.
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	but when he walks in, i am loved, i am loved

**Author's Note:**

> READ. THE. TAGS.

Connor doesn't know what happened. He wasn't having a good day, he wasn't, he can admit that- he understands that everything was really crashing the fuck down on him. He knows that there were problems.

But he didn't know it was this bad. He didn't know it could get this bad.

He fucked up. He was doing so well and he fucked up, he fucked up, he fucked up. Why couldn't he just keep it together? Why couldn't he just  _ stay  _ good?

Two months. Two whole months and two weeks, thrown in the trash. Two months and two weeks of suffering. Two months and two weeks of coping. Two months and two weeks of getting better.

All.

For nothing at all.

Connor sobs, and it rips through his body, wracking through him like a reminder that it's all gone, all that progress, all gone, and he slides across the bathroom floor and to the toilet, nearly vomiting, but swallowing it down.

He doesn't deserve release. He did this to himself. He did this to  _ Evan.  _ God, what would Evan think? Would he blame him? Leave him? He must be getting sick and tired of picking Connor up all over again, fixing him just to see him fall apart.

So he punches. Since he can't punch at himself for  _ obvious _ reasons, he punches at the floor and the tub and the carpets, grabbing them and trying his best to just tear it all apart.

Watch it all go away.

Everything is too much and he can't breathe and he bites at the carpets to tear it apart, writhes in the ripping sound it makes and just keeps going, keeps going until he can't see, keeps going until he's pulled away from the floor by strong, warm arms- keeps going until he's huffing out heavy breaths and struggling in the firm hold of whoever has him.

  
  


He starts kicking. He just starts kicking, even though he doesn't know who it is, because there's blood on the floor and scars on his legs that are new and it's all his fault,  _ it's all his fault. _

  
  


"Connor," Comes the voice, firm and steady and panicked, pulling him down to the floor an to his warm chest. It's squishy and comforting, there, and Connor is beyond repair, so he just. Rests there.

  
  


There's the warm voice again, running hands through his hair and pulling it back into a loose ponytail. The warmth has a hair band, apparently, and there's a wet rag being dragged along his face. Apparently, there's something there, and he doesn't know what, but it's okay.

It's okay.

  
  


He's safe now.

  
  


His breathing is evening out, just a little, and he feels sick. Evan's face is the first thing he sees when he looks up from the tile floor.

He sniffles at eye contact.

"I'm- I'm  _ sorry _ , Evan," Connor says, and it sounds more like he's begging.

  
  


_ 'Please don't leave me.'  _

"I didn't mean to, it was a mistake, I didn't mean to,"

' _ Please don't go, I promise I'll get better.' _

"I'm so sorry Evan, I was doing so fucking well, and I fucked it all- fucked it all up, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,"

' _ I was doing good, I can do good again, just don't lose hope in me please. I promise I'm worth waiting for.' _

  
  


Evan lightly grabs onto his face, caressing the cheek. He looks worried, but not panicked, not dissapointed. Just worried.

When was the last time someone looked at him like that?

"I'm not leaving yo- you, Connor. I'm right here. I swear I'm right here. I'd never leave you." Evan says, firmly, picking Connor up off the ground just a little and leaning him up against the door. "Now.. Kick your legs out for me?"

Connor does as he's told. His eyes are fluttering closed as Evan pours  _ something  _ over the cuts, and it stings, but he feels clean now. They sit there in silence as Evan bandages him up, and he's on the last one when he looks up him- questioning. Hesitant.

  
  


"...Do you want to- want to talk about it yet?" Evan mumbles, small enough to be ignored, but Connor only shakes his head,whispering another ' _ I'm sorry,'  _ As his pants are pulled back up his waist.

Evan only hums, brushing a loose strand behind his ear. 

Connor doesn't want to talk. His throat is tight, he feels so cold, and he's weak in his arms. Everything is loose.

But he's safe. He's okay.

He'll be okay.

Evan is here.

He'll be okay.


End file.
